


You Want a Human

by iCheat



Series: Steter Week 2016 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aliens, BAMF Stiles, Based on a Tumblr Post, Human Companions, M/M, Peter's an idiot sometimes, Steter Week, angsty backstory, i will add more - Freeform, late fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:11:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7684084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iCheat/pseuds/iCheat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski was a galaxy renowned companion. When he becomes the first human to join a Tilsnick crew he soon finds himself uncovering secrets. He also finds Peter Hale, but he'd rather not talk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Want a Human

**Author's Note:**

> Look another chapter fic... oops.
> 
> Thanks to my amazing Beta! Don't know what I'd do without you.
> 
> Inspired by: http://hockpock.tumblr.com/post/145934787731/amemait-cryptfly-ts-porter-ts-porter

Stiles Stilinski was a galaxy renowned companion. He’d been on dozens of trips and he was only twenty-five. He’d been a crewmember on some of the most talked about flights and while other humans thought he was to blame for the chaos (superstitious species that they were), his crews were nothing but grateful for his service. According to them he epitomized everything they looked for in a human companion.

Stiles himself was beyond pleased with how his life was going. All he’d wanted growing up was to explore the galaxy and interact with other species. His father was a head Peacekeeper so he’d grown up believing in the equality of all the different species, and he’d loved nothing more than learning new things about them.

People had laughed themselves sick when he refused to join any of the academies. Becoming a companion wasn’t well looked on unless you made a name for yourself, no matter how well you were doing. Stiles had laughed right back as he went off at seventeen to travel with a crew of Barbaxs.

Most companions started out with creatures like Shashrans or the like, something less intimidating. Stiles, however, fully planned to be the greatest companion since Gina herself. First companion to get a contract with Tintillian. Besides, he didn’t really want his first contract to involve bodyguard duty, it was a lot of pressure.

Thankfully the trip had been relatively peaceful. The Barbaxs handled the conflicts that came up and the most complicated things Stiles had had to do were scavenge when they’re supplies ended up disappearing (assuring the crew that they didn’t need to track down the culprit, likely just a scavenger species itself) and have a little bit of medical know how. That wasn’t a problem for him, since he and Scott had been learning from Melissa since they could understand her.

He’d come home with happy Barbaxs and more precious metals than he knew what to do with. He sent most of it home to his dad and Melissa, so they could manage it. He also mentioned that maybe Scott could use it to go to the super fancy medical school he wanted, but wasn’t sure how he was going to pay for.

Then he’d not picked up calls from Scott for a few months.

His career had only picked up from there. He had a few crews he’d travelled with more than once, and had received various ranks and titles, as companions sometimes did.

He liked his life. He just liked it more when he was actually out on a contract. At the moment he was between contracts, just hanging out waiting for something to catch his interest. He’d actually been with a crew of Shashrans last. He loved Shashrans, their contracts were usually quite safe, and they were just _so soft_ , and light enough that it didn’t bother him when they used him as furniture. He had always been tactile.

Nothing had caught his eye yet though. A few crews came in but the other companions were eager for work too, and Stiles wanted something a bit more interesting after the Shashrans. This, of course, meant that the hush that fell over the room immediately had Stiles’ attention.

“Tilsnicks,” Stiles heard someone hiss, and he was immediately standing, craning his neck to see over the crowd. Tilsnicks were a strong, and often prideful race. They were sometimes compared to humans in how they hated requesting help from other species.

They were also a rather intimidating sight.

Stiles watched the three Tilsnicks looking around the room. They were reminiscent of a creature from a human child’s nightmares. Many adults as well, probably. Despite being labelled human-friendly, it was rare to find any human who wasn’t automatically wary of them.

They were a dark purple-ish colour, with rough skin, and dangerous looking spines. They had a natural hunch, occurring in even their young, beak-like snouts filled with razor teeth, wore ragged looking robes, and had long, talon like fingers tipped with claws that could cut through diamond. Supposedly.

Stiles had read a lot about the Tilsnicks, even seen his father interact with them on a few occasions, and saw Melissa tending one once. Still, they were one of the species with significantly less known about them.

Well, time to see how Stiles’ Snickture was. All he really knew for certain was that it had creeped out the other kids when he was little. Fortunately, that was what translators were for. He moved towards the Tilsnicks, ignoring the eyes that followed him. The lead Tilsnick looked towards him and Stiles titled his head in acknowledgement before slowly, carefully making a series of clicking and crooning noises, tapping his nails against the empty glass he had for some of the sounds.

If he had to guess by their positive looking reaction, he’d say he’d made at least a somewhat decent introduction. Great, he had their attention.

“I am human Stiles, companion for hire,” he said, activating his visor.

“Krost, Tal and Nir, lead crew members,” the lead Tilsnick, Krost, replied, their English carefully enounced though Stiles would really have to learn how to pronounce their names in Snickture. It was just polite.

Stiles looked over the mission description, vaguely noting the lack of history with companions. It seemed to primarily be a rescue mission, but in a little explored area. Potentially high risk but the reward definitely looked promised, and Stiles had gone on dangerous missions for stupider reasons than getting to travel with Tilsnicks. Scott was going to lose it when Stiles told him.

Hopefully the Tilsnicks had been impressed with his history. Although, it didn’t appear they had many other options. Not here at least.

“I would be glad to join you in your mission and provide whatever aid I can.” Stiles said. The Tilsnicks exchanged a series of rapid noises that Stiles couldn’t even have dreamed of following.

“We will form contract with Human Stiles,” Krost replied, offering his hand. Stiles heard the sharp intake of breathe even as he held out his own hand in return. One known fact about the Tilsnick was that they had their own form of a handshake. For them it was a sign of trust, actually reaching past the hand and pressing their claws against the arm.

Those were scary, scary claws.

Nevertheless, Stiles matched the Tilsnick’s movements, gently pressing his blunt nails against the creature’s rough skin. He felt the needle sharp claws touch against his skin, the entire room seemed to be holding its breath.

Krost nodded his head pulling his hand away. Stiles mimicked the action, letting a small smile grow on his face. He was going to be contracted with Tilsnicks!

As soon as they finished working out the details he was contacting everyone he knew. Lydia was going to be so jealous.

* * *

The Tilsnicks, as it turned out, were a very welcoming species once they’d accepted you. Stiles, being part of the crew rather than a passenger or the like, was treated like one of them. Sort of. In actuality they treated him like some bizarre mix of an infant and a somewhat terrifying zombie creature. Nir had nearly broken down when he accidentally gave Stiles a bloody nose.

One of the major differences between Humans and Tilsnicks, Stiles was noticing, was how they dealt with injuries. In that Humans dealt with them. The Tilsnicks, while quite a tough race, did not heal well. They were deadly creatures, but while they were resistant, when they got injured it was always to the worst possible extent. A bloody nose (beak…thing) on one of them would be similar seriousness to a brain haemorrhage.

Also, apparently they were slightly reptilian. Freaked them out when they found Stiles lying on the icebox when he got a bit overheated. He’d also discovered why they didn’t carry weapons. They evolve for the claws, with made them amazing with small, delicate things, but they did not have the strongest grips.

Stiles was going to blow Lydia’s mind.

Stiles was used to it though, and even if they were concerned about his physicality, they did see him as a full equal intellectually. In fact they were quite impressed at his eagerness to learn about their culture and language, some of them had even taken to giving him lessons.

Actually the lessons were a rather prominent part of the journey so far. Particularly combat training. Now, Stiles had done combat training with a lot of people. He’d known how to use guns and blasters since he was a kid, and after he’d started being kind of friends with the Hales, well, let’s just say you pick up hand to hand pretty fast when you get tackled if you stand in one place too long.

Cora was brutal.

Fortunately the Tilsnicks knew not to go all out, and were always careful not to injure him with their claws. They had amazing reflexes. They were also strong than they’re bony forms suggested, and fast. Tal and Nir, in particular, were a terrifying tag team. Really, Stiles was lucky he’d played with werewolves or this would be really embarrassing.

He couldn’t help but groan as he wandered through the ship, stretching out his sore muscles. At the very least he’d come out of this with serious muscles. Maybe he’d finally be able to win one of those arm wrestling matches at the guild.

“If I still have working arms, damn, they’re brutal on the muscles,” he grumbled to himself. Seriously, taking on Derek was easier than training with Tilsnicks.

“Take an ice bath,” a voice replied, making Stiles freeze. “Even if it doesn’t help the crew will freak.”

Stiles looked around, taking in the area of the ship he was in. He was allowed anywhere in the ship except private quarters, and had a tendency to wander around somewhat aimlessly. Apparently this time he’d found his way to the brig.

He hadn’t actually been informed of any prisoners and, more important, he recognised that voice.

“Peter Hale?” he demanded, anger in his tone despite himself. He hadn’t seen the man in almost five years, but he still felt that old frustration and disappointment boiling up.

“Stiles?” Peter responded, voice clearly shocked. Stiles moved towards the voice, looking through the little window into the cell. Peter looked back at him, eyes widening as he fully recognised him. For a moment they both just stared at each other, then Stiles huffed and folded his arms.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“Why do you I did something?” Peter asked in an offended voice, “This could all be some dramatic understanding.”

“It’s usually your fault,” Stiles replied with a raised eyebrow, “But if you don’t want to tell me, fine, I’ll just go back to the crew. Krir will probably pamper me if I mention I’m hurting. These guys know luxury, I’m telling you.”

“Fine,” Peter snarled, looking away, “I may have insulted someone important. Honestly I’m not that sure. I never quite managed to work out the sexes of Tilsnicks, they’re tricky ones.”

“Of course not,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “You always were more interested in the species that catered to your interests weren’t you? Whatever, later.”

“What? Stiles, what about letting me out?” Peter demanded, approaching the door now. Stiles looked blankly back at him.

“Who said anything about letting you out?” he asked, “I’m here on a job, I wouldn’t want to insult my crew, would I?”

“Stiles?” Peter called as the human walked away, “Honestly, you’re being a bit immature. Stiles? Stiles!”

Stiles ignored him, retracing his steps back to the main parts of the ship. Oh, he’d probably get the werewolf out eventually but a couple more days wouldn’t hurt him, and then Stiles could actually talk to the crew about letting him out instead of orchestrating a prison break.

Besides, Krir usually want to see him after he’d been sparring, and he’d offered to teach Krost chess.

Yeah, Peter could wait.

Asshole deserved it anyway.

* * *


End file.
